What is right and what is easy
by juanml
Summary: Cedric is dead. A third year Slytherin tries to understand what's going on and what to do about it. His parents begin doubting Dumbledore as they rejoin the Order of the Phoenix to fight yet another war. Another point of view on the war, eventually going slightly AU as events unfold past the return of Voldemort. It could be boring otherwise.
1. Chapter 1

I've started writing this story in Spanish. I've decided to also translate it to English - there are vastly more fics in English than in any other language, but also more readers. English it's not my first language and although I'm fair confident in my skills in that language, writing in a non native language is, of course, harder and likely rougher. So, let me know about grammar issues, phrases a bit out of context and, generally, anything that ends up hurting your eyes as you read. And, of course, review!

This first chapter is a prologue. A piece of an in-universe book written decades after the war. The rest of the story is written as a regular story, not as a history book.

BTW, I'm obviously not JKR so I don't own Harry Potter. Wish I did, by now I'd be sunbathing in Tahiti or something.

* * *

"The world – our world – is changing. The age when we could hide in our homes ignoring the rest of the world so we could then amaze ourselves about muggleborns entering Hogwarts malnourished, dirty, smelly and illiterates is long past. Grindelwald's muggle pilots proved us so in the 1940's, when the Ministry had to invent spells almost overnight in order to prevent Grindelwald bombs, manufactured and dropped by muggles, from blowing up Diagon Alley.

The generation which defeated Grindelwald understood it. The Knight Bus, the Hogwarts Express, the WWN are part of their legacy. It all ended with the war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Those who pretended to bring the advantages of the muggle world to ours were persecuted, murdered or chose exile in those years. When it all ended, we found ourselves with an uneasy truce over a ravaged country. The traditional families rebuilt it, thinking the world would wait for us. The world did not wait for us. The rest of the world was not devastated by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

As the Wizengamot debates laws whether to protect, or not, muggles, and the Ministry becomes an expanding bureaucracy, wizards all over the world have no qualm in learning and using muggle knowledge. As Madam Gambol looked for muggle technología to create the Hogwarts Express, Incan and Indian wizards go for muggle literature to perfect the new generation of brooms. Corporations located in the Eastern United States manufacture apparatus in prices and qualities British craftsmen can't equal. The Incan Confederation sells St. Mungo common potions at almost the same prices half their ingredients are worth at Diagon Alley. Madam Malkin closed her operations in France as she can't comprehend the marketing techniques her competitors learnt in muggle universities. British squibs emigrate in masse to the USA and Canada, where they are hired for sky-high salaries so they work as a bridge between wizards and muggles.

In Britain, in the meantime, Hogwarts house system turn the heirs of the great families into enemies. Subjects are pretty much limited to magic. Rich students learn money is made by letting goblins invest it. Those who aren't rich learn to look for jobs in the ministry bureaucracy. Muggleborn students lose their ties with the muggle world most of the year. Most wizard ignore what are muggles capable of and can't even dress their way. Our nation has stagnated, in a world which doesn't stop to learn and move. We feel threatened by change, by change won't stop. Britain's future depends on how we resolve the muggle issue. "

Interdepartmental memo, attributed to Bartemius Crouch, c. March 1995

_For many years, historians have been convinced the so-called 'Crouch Memorandum' wasn't written by Mr. Crouch, but by a third party. The style and the ideas in it do not correspond with known texts written by Crouch. Furthermore, the official version states Bartemius Crouch was under the Imperius Curse by the date the memo was written._

_Memories stored in the Dumbledore museum indicate that, in its time, Percival Weasley was believed to be the actual author. As Mr. Crouch's assistant, he was in fact occupying Crouch's position and was in permanent contact with diplomats and businessmen from all over the world. However, Weasley's actions during the Second Wizarding War cast doubts over this hypothesis. A similar thing happens with the rumors from those times pointing at Albert Runcorn as the author. While Runcorn indeed held similar ideas, post war documents indicate that, for reasons unknown, Runcorn joined the Death Eaters after Riddle's return. The strongest hypothesis point at the Peruvian ambassador - actual ambassador of the Incan Confederacy – animagus Adrian Grau. However, Incan diplomacy never showed great interest in Great Britan, as to justify such a forgery._

_Likely, it will never be known who actually wrote that memorandum. The last line, however, remains noteworthy and spooky. Indeed, the 'muggle issue' would be determinant in the following years._

_British Wars in the 20__th__ Century_

_Jean Malfoy. Copyright 2066_


	2. 1 - Nightmares, realities and fears

_'No. Not again'_ thought, in some conscious recess of his mind, Adrian Grau. His subconscious had put him in a Nimbus 1000, the latest on broomsticks about fifteen years ago. Dusk settled in the Tutshill Tornados' stadium, in the same fashion he remembered. A Tornado chaser had the quaffle and Adrian flew to get it. The rival chaser passed the quaffle. The public screamed. Five hundred tickets sold. Five hundred wands at the stadium. The Tarapotos Tree-Skimmers team didn't want to complete his European tour due fear of the terrorist campaign ravaging Wales. The reserve squad jumped at the opportunity of showing against one of the best British teams and one of them made a stupid comment about Lord Voldemort to the British press. They were young, idiots and were believed to be immortal. What could possibly happen to them?

In a hotel room in the Black Forest in Germany, sweat ran through Adrian Grau's once athletic back. His arms, once used to drop quaffles, were immobile. His face, less sunburnt than in the time of his dream and with a short beard and a baldness which weren't there in his player years, twisted in the way only someone suffering nightmares could. Dreaming, his mind revived that match. Martin had passed him the quaffle. Showing off, Adrian flew close to the stands. He didn't need to, but it was fun and prevented the rival beaters from aiming bludgers at him. Flying at the top speed his Nimbus could deliver, he approached the Tornados' goal posts. When he raised his hands to throw, he saw them sweaty. It wasn't from the match, it was the actual sweat his body had outside the nightmare. He didn't want to throw the quaffle, but memories commanded in his nightmares. The sun shone right behind the Tornandos' central goal post. He threw. And behind the goal post, mounted on brooms, two dozen terrorists apparated.

In the actual match, what followed lasted just a few seconds. With sadistic pleasure, his subcouncious stretched it. The death eaters cursed every player, be them Tornados or Tarapots. Adrian dodged a curse at the last moment, but his friends weren't as lucky. As if in slow motion, they died. In their brooms, crashing into the ground, or in midair. From the five hundred wands in the stands, 495 had either vanished or ran to get out of there. Three teenagers tried to attack the death eaters. He hadn't actually noticed them at that time, but he knew the story and the dream obliged. Still flying, he looked them at the eyes for a moment. From the three of them, only one would survive the war. Another one would die years later. The third would win a life sentence to Azkaban. He saw an eldery couple taking them out of the stadium by side-along apparition. A death eater approached him.

'_Master, listen'._ That was new. Voldemort didn't show up that afternoon. He focused in the death eater's mask. He had left his wand at the locker rooms. He threw the death eater from the brom and looked as the masked man, or woman, fall sixty feet and crashed into the ground just as the Quidditch players he had come to kill. He dove to check the body and take his wand. '_Master'_. Again. It made no sense. He kept diving. With adrenalin and hatred pulsing in his veins, he took the dead death eater's wand. He wanted revenge. Yet, as he took the wand, the death eaters dissaparated. He walked a few steps in the pitch, until he saw two of his friend's dead bodies. He kneeled, the killing in the last few minutes sinking in his mind. British aurors would arrive anytime now, including a twenty years apprentice with short blonde hear and beautiful green eyes. He wished to see her.

Instead, he heard '_MASTER!_' and an explosion. He was sitting in the German hotel's bed, sweaty and wand in hand. He had just destroyed the wall in front of him. Next to the bed, a house elf looked at him, worried. He didn't have such a nightmare in years. He through what his old muggle shrink would say if he told him. He'll put him back in treatment for sure. Still, he wished it would be the shrink and not Albus Dumbledore the one to be right about the return of his nightmares. He took a deep breath and tried to focus in oclumency exercises, which were useless. The elf had repaired the wall and looked at him next to the bed. The elf knew Adrian would realize where he was before killing him, but was still sad and scared. Adrian was still taking deep breaths. _'I'm in Germany. In a hotel'_ he thought _'It's June 1995. We are not at war. Nobody is going to kill me. My sons are at Hogwarts, watching the end of the Triwizard Tournament. Nobody is going to kill us.'_

He managed to relax himself and addressed the elf next to him – "Ralkey, what happened? Why did you wake me up?"

The elf, however, was still terrified. He didn't see his master this way in years, far before little Alex, who graduated this year, went to Hogwarts. – "Master, could you leave your wand for a moment?"

Adrian became terrified. – "What happened?" – as the elf was still not responding, he left his wand among the sheets.

"Mister Lupin appeared in the fire tonight" - answered the elf, honing his old self-preservation orders – "He told me professor Dumbledore asked him to call the Order. V-Voldemort is back and killed Cedric Diggory."

* * *

"Victory" – whispered Graham Montague when he arrived at the entrance of the Slytherin's common room. A long line of teenagers followed him inside restless, uneasy and, even though they didn't want to show it, scared, and sat across the common room. Nobody had told them to return to their common room, nobody had told the students to assemble in the Great Hall. A sullen Flitwick had ordered the house elves to serve them dinner and, once that was finished, nobody had ordered them back to their rooms.

Then again, nobody had told them anything about Diggory either, thought Fabian Grau. Thirteen years old, he had his father's dark hair and skin, but her mother's slimmer body instead of the more athletic one from his father' side. At least, he had inherited his mothers' green eyes, although he had yet to learn how to take advantage of them. Of course, Slytherin's common room was bursting with rumors. As far as they knew, Potter had cuts in the his arms and legs, yet Diggory was intact. Dead, but intact. And some Hufflepuff claimed, back at Great Hall, that a Beauxbatons heard Potter saying Voldemort was back before Mad-Eye took him to the hospital wing. Had anyone else said that, the Slytherins would be terrified. However, Lying Potter had said it. Of course, that presented other issues. If Potter had lied, thought Fabian, did Potter kill Diggory? And, if Potter had indeed killed Diggory, what would the Hufflepuff do about it tomorrow?

Near the fireplace, Carol Pritchard, Graham's twin sister, asked if it was possible for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to be back. Every gaze fell in the fourth year students. Uneasy, Malfoy ended up answering he didn't know. Nobody stopped looking at them anyway.

"So, did Potter kill Diggory then?" – asked Astoria, curled up against the fire

"Potter had a bleeding leg and was hit. They may have fought and Potter tried to pull an ace from the sleeve, and pulled the killing curse" – answered her older sister. Malfoy, however, claimed that, being a very powerful curse, it required a very powerful wizard.

"No" – interrupted Fabian – "Nobody is so stupid to cast an unforgivable and appear, wand in hand, in front of the Ministry of Magic. Not even Potter" – Due the curious look from the younger Slytherins, he simply explained – "Prior Incantato" – and left them find out the meaning of it. He then distracted himself looking through the window. A mermaid was standing at the bottom of the lake and was watching the common room from there_. 'Too bad mermaids aren't as muggle think they are'_ thought Fabian. Trying to figure out what had happened was a bit stupid. Tomorrow morning, his older brother would be writing their mother and they'll know, firsthand, what Potter was telling the aurors under the influence of veritaserum. He felt someone grabbing his shoulder.

"I say, why don't you ask your mother what she knows?" – asked the Russian Gregory Vaisey.

"I'll bring floo powder" – he heard Helena Runcorn saying as she climbed to her room. Fabian, somewhat annoyed, looked at her classmate leaving. He didn't want to get his parents involved. His older brother did that all the time. But, with every student waiting for him to bring answers, he couldn't quite refuse. He'll get even with Gregory for his suggestion later on. Helena came out of the girls room and threw the powder into the fireplace. In a bad mood, Fabian stuck his head in there – "Grau Home" – he said, wondering when their parents would finally change its name to 'Grau Manor'. After all, few houses had a full Quidditch pitch in the 'back garden'. He saw his house elf at the other side of the fire and asked him what he knew.

"So?" – he was asked as he pulled his head out of the fire

"My parents aren't home, but the elf have already heard the official version. Or at least, Potter's official version… Voldemort killed Cedric Diggory.

All Slytherins flinched at hearing the name and Peter Harper asked if naming him was actually needed before storming into the bedrooms. The rest of the Common Room burst in comments once again and Fabian managed to distinctly hear Goyle joyful about 'The hour of the mudbloods have come'. Someone wondered if it wasn't a lie and Potter had actually used a basilisk. As it looked like there was a long time of stupidities ahead, Fabian also went to his bedroom.

Harper had just barely finished turning off the light and was getting into bed when Fabian entered the bedroom. While, as far as Fabian knew, Slytherin's bedrooms were just like the rest of the houses, turning the lights at night meant they were completely dark: like the Common Room, the bedrooms were under the lake. At night, that meant no light could enter through the windows. Fabian casted a few light spheres from his wand to illuminate the place. Peter Harper was the only other person in the bedroom, which meant Edgar was taking advantage of the professors being distracted and would be in some empty classroom with Nat Bucannan.

Fabian started to get into bed when he saw Peter's dark hand waving a wand to turn off the lights which, casually, Fabian had thrown at his face. – "Worse of all" – said Peter – " is, it could have been anyone of us. Anything could be a portkey"

"Or the window's glass could break and the lake would flood us when we sleep" – answered Gregory Vaisey from the bedroom's door – "Or the food could be poisoned. Or, even worse, we could graduate without ever playing in Slytherin's Quidditch team."

Peter, who was first alarmed with the window's comment, laid down again when he heard the blond chaser speak of Quidditch. Fabian couldn't stop him from laughing. – " Grisha, it's serious. We could die tomorrow" – he answered, as Vaisey made his way into the room – "I'd say we need to convince the two free girls in our class to make the most of what little time we have remaining"

"And what makes you think we'll do it with you?" – teased a girly voice from the doorframe. Both Vanessa McLaggen and Helena Runcorn were standing in the threshold dressed in nightgowns. Against the light, they were a strange sight. Vanessa, unlike her older brother, was rather petite while Helena was one of Slytherin's tallest girls. On top, McLaggen had her family's trademark blonde hair and she used it short, while Runcorn had it dark and long. Both friends looked like opposites standing that way against the threshold. Grisha, who was about to undress himself, jumped inside his bed. Laughing, the girls entered and sat in Edgar Urquhart's empty bed.

"I was thinking about what Goyle said, and there is something wrong" – started Helena while getting herself comfortable in the bed. Facing the curious look from the boys, she continued –"Think what we saw today: the final of Europe's most important juvenile tournament. And who can go as far as that? Durmstrang has a pureblood director, but one who was a dead eater. And their champion is actually muggleborn. Then we have Beauxbatons. A half giant director and a half human champion."

"What?" – asked Vaisey

"Grisha, Fleur is part Veela" – answered Fabian – "But, what's your point, Helena?"

"Fleur is… well, let's say she is pretty, but thanks to a zoophilic grandfather. Howgwarts, instead, has a director who seems to be excellent and gets a pureblood champion who, on top, comes from one of Britain's older and more traditional families.

"So?" – Fabain, whose father was muggleborn and his mother half-blood, was beggining to be upset.

"You don't get it" – tried to explain Peter –"You're half English and half Inca and Grisha is a Russian immigrant. It's not a matter of blood, it's a matter of tradition. The Triwizard tournament ended up as a competition between part-humans, muggleborns who were told they were wizards at eleven years old and a single decent wizard!

Fabian interrupted him – "The world is changing"

"Yes, yes, Helena's father probably says that every day. But I still don't get it" – said Vanessa McLaggen.

Helena Runcorn grabbed one of the cushions the boys had left in the floor and curled up with it –"The Goble of Fire chooses a single pure blood, traditionalist, wizard. And, just as it does, someone manages to get Harry Potter into the tournament."

"Well, that someone is Cheating Potter" said Grisha, as if explaining the obvious.

However, Vanessa shook her head - "He couldn't have. Someone else had to do it" – she explained, causing even more confusion.

"Then why did you tease him the whole year?" – asked, unconvinced, Peter Harper.

Vanessa was about to answer, but Fabian interrupted her – "It's obvious. He's a Gryffindor. They're chivalrous, brave, stupid and get teased by Slytherins. We, instead, are smart, cunning, ambitious and they tease us. The sorting hat says that every year."

"Err… I think it doesn't quite say that" – answered Grisha, fooling around with the balls of light illuminating the bedroom.

Fabian was about to answer that, but Helena hit him with one of the cushions –"What if Dumbledore put him in so Cedric didn't win? Think about it" – said the girl – "Cedric wins and it's a victory for centuries of tradition. And it looks like he won, because both Potter and Cedric appeared holding the cup together. However, he managed to make as only Potter won. And it was probably Dumbledore the one who made the Prophet ignore Cedric. Plus, while Potter is a half-blood, he lived in the muggle world all his life. And, when the times come to accuse someone, Dumbledore accuses You-Know-Who, which makes everyone to fear a muggleborn massacre. But, in reality, the only dead is a Diggory."

"The Chamber of Secrets" – whispered Fabian – "It's the same, right? Petrified students are all muggleborn, the accusation is against Slytherin's monster and pure-blood wizards are supposed to be safe. But the student taken to the Chamber was Ginny Weasley. And Harry Potter also seems to have been involved in that."

"So?" – asked Vanessa.

"I think someone, thinking it's acting in Great Britain's best interests, wants to accelerate our country's _mugglization_. And they're willing to kill for it. Accusing, in the meantime, the same people they want to remove." –concluded Helena.

Peter Harper looked like he was trying to distract himself looking at the bottom of the lake through the window – "That's weirder than all Lovegood's conspiracies together" – he ended up saying.

Fabian laid down thoughtful. Yes, it looked like a Quibbler's article. Yet, Potter was in the thick of it, again. Between that and Voldemort's rumors, the whole school would be looking down on Slytherins again. And Peter was right: anything could be a portkey. He barely noticed the two girls asking permission to stay to sleep there. He helped his classmates to group all the mattresses and set up a large one in the floor and lied down again. A few hours ago, he dreamt of becoming Hogwarts Champion in the next tournament. Right now, he thought if he would make it alive to the tournament's next edition, by the time he'll be in seventh year.

That night, in that room, five Slytherins slept thinking the same thing.


	3. 2 - The gathering of the Order

Remus Lupin's small shack was filled with people, and more kept coming. Each and every single one of those people was nervous and suspicious. Standing in a corner, Karen Grau watched the place with the tense and watchful look some muggles would have recognized in a policewoman. In the wizarding world, that was the look of an auror, spiced with a touch of the paranoia earned by veterans of the war against Voldemort. For a moment, Karen envied Alastor Moody's eye although she didn't exactly envied how Mad-Eye needed it. Most people at the house were old acquaintances, save for the young man who had identified himself as Bill Weasley and who, for a fleeting moment, she had confused with his deceased uncle, Gideon Prewett. Then again, it never hurt to be vigilant, thought Karen while watching everyone from her corner. If Albus message was right, anyone could be an infiltrator using polyjuice potion. Her husband Adrian, in the meantime, was asking Remus some potion to wake himself, while politely chatting with everyone_. 'What a diplomat'_ – thought Karen – _'The issue is, these aren't times for diplomats'_. Not an encouraging thought – she wanted to live with her husband beyond their hundredth birthday and it was a long way for that.

"Remus" – she finally said when it looked like no more people were coming – "What do we know about Voldemort?"

Lupin looked at her with a rather doubtful look, as if he wanted to hide something. He didn't answer right away. And, for just a moment, he turned his eyes towards a black dog which had been watching everything from another corner. That's all Karen needed. Before Remus, or anyone else for that matter, could react, she had her wand on the dog and, now using legimency on Remus, realized who the dog was. Before Remus could get her away from the dog, Adrian stepped in between, his wand almost sticking in the werewolf's forehead

"What's going on here?" – asked, in general, Adrian, without moving his wand away from Remus

"That dog is an animagus. A fugitive animagus" – answered Karen

"Karen, hear me before doing anything" – begged Lupin, his eyes fixed in Adrian's wand. The other Order members have grabbed their wands, but couldn't decide who to aim. Outnumbered and just in case, the South American diplomat conjured a bit of fiendfyre. A single distraction and he would loose control of the small flame, which wasn't something everyone else wanted. Karen didn't even try to turn around. With a swish of her wand, the dog was forced to turn into Sirius Black. With another movement, Black was frozen in place.

"He's innocent Karen!" – shouted Remus as the rest of the Order pointed their wands to Sirius. Karen released the body-bind charm only in Sirius' head. After all, Sirius and her had been friends, and something else, a very long time ago. –"Innocent enough to drink veritaserum?" – asked the auror. Sirius, terrified, nodded.

"Karen, we don't have time to take him to the ministry" – told her, without turning around, her husband. The witch, however, simply pulled a flask from her pocket, casted a few enchantments on Black in order to check he hadn't drunk veritaserum's antidote and put the liquid in his mouth. Sirius swallowed and, in a matter of minutes, the Order heard him say he had spent thirteen years in Azkaban while being innocent. None of them had believed him back them, even less tried to help him. Adrian and Karen lowered their wands. Adrian apologized to Remus. With Sirius… apologies were simply not enough. Karen asked him if he knew were Voldemort was as she pulled the flask with veritaserum's antidote.

"At a graveyard in Little Hagleton. Or, at least, he was there a few hours ago" – he answered while drinking the antidote – "Shall we go?" – he asked with an obviously conspiratorial look.

"You stay" – Karen ordered him – "If Voldemort is still there, I'll be calling every auror and dementor I can get. I don't think you want dementors close to you right now."

Sirius paled at the mention of dementors, but didn't look like he was going to cede. Lupin put himself between him and Karen. –"Sirius, we need someone to stay and tell Dumbledore were we're going. Karen, shouldn't we actually wait for Dumbledore?"

"There is no time to waste Remus." – the auror simply answered.

Leaving Sirius at Lupin's house, the rest of the Order apparated in Little Hagleton's graveyard. Hiding behind graves and leaving one of their members behind so he could hide from the ministry, the Order of the Phoenix begun their first action since the end of the _other_ war.

* * *

Nymphadora Tonks threw The Quibbler over her desk. Not even the ridiculous stories about invented creatures could raise her mood. She had joined the Auror's office thinking in a life full of travels and adventures. She got a desk job instead. The Magical Law Enforcement Patrol usually got all the job while the aurors, reserved for far worse situations, played chess at the ministry.

And that night, in which something put the whole Department of Magical Law Enforcement in full altert, Scrimgeur had ordered _the new girl_ to remain at watch at the ministry. She was about to write Charly about possible positions at the dragon reserve when the wall alarm screamed. Tonks, naturally, reacted the expected way: she fell from the chair.

Minutes later, she apparated into a cementery just outside a muggle village. Her boss, Karen Grau, held her so she wouldn't trip over a grave, as Tonks casted a supersensorial spell on herself. The tombs around her were destroyed. She quickly noticed several wizards hidden between the graves, watching over the perimeter but without threatening her nor Karen. None looked like an auror. – "What happened here, Grau?" – she asked.

Karen Grau looked at her with a face covered in a fear she didn't feel in years and pointed her at an intact, blood stained, tomb. –"Don't worry about the other wizards, they're friends" – told her Karen. Under the supersensorial charm's influence, Tonks didn't need to get near the tomb, nor to illuminate it, to read it. _Tom Riddle_. She stopped to think for a moment. She knew she had heard the name before. Then, she remembered and looked at her boss, this time the fear in Tonks face as well. –"You-Know-How" – said Tonks. Karen shook her head.

"His father" – completed a wizard she recognized as Karen's husband, next to an eldery witch she didn't recognize. Tonks looked around the graveyard again. The wizards accompanying Karen were all older than forty, except for Charly's older brother. She recognized a few from the books about the war. – "The Order of the Phoenix" – she whispered. Karen nodded. She was surrounded by the people whose legend decided her to become an auror. The very people who kept Voldemort and his death eaters at bay until Harry Potter destroyed him.

She had to impress them. She raised her wand and, with a whisper, casted –"Dikanus"-

"What's that?" – asked Karen as blue shapes were drawn in the graveyard, moving from Riddle's tomb and back. Watching closely, she saw as numbers were also drawn over the destroyed tombs and other parts of the graveyard.

"An Hindu invention. It revels powerful curses like the unforgivables and dark magic in general. It all depends on the spells being strong enough. It won't detect a stunner or a full body bind. That smoke is the wand movement and the numbers besides it are the arithmantic signature of the spell. Weren't you at the seminar the Indian embassy gave last month?"

"No, I was helping Shacklebolt with Black. But that charm…"

"The last one makes no sense, right?" – asked Tonks. She started pointing at tombs. – "That tomb was broken by a cruciatus. That one, by a killing curse. That's another cruciatus. Those two back there aren't showing up, so they should be minor spells. Stunners or the like."

"And, due the disposition and the blood stains" – interrupted Karen – "there was a chase up to that point and back again towards Riddle's tomb."

"And yet someone took time to burn a circle in the glass and cast Priori Incantatem while all that was going on" – concluded Tonks.

The witch next to Adrian looked skeptical. – "That doesn't have" – she interrupted when she heard the noise of someone apparating at the cementery – "any sense" – she concluded as half the Order pointed their wands at the apparating wizard, who ended up being Albus Dumbledore.

"What doesn't have any sense, Emmeline?" – asked Dumbledore, with his gaze fixed on Karen and Tonks, noting how the aurors distinctly closed their minds with occlumency.

"Priori Incantatement in the middle of a fight to the death?" – suggest, derisively Emmeline Vance.

To the Order' surprise, Albus nodded solemnly. –"Much of what happened here makes sense Emmeline. Should we return to Lupin's, I'll explain what I can about this. Nymphadora, you're welcome if you wish" – The Order begun dissaparating towards Remus Lupin's house but, as Karen and Adrian were about to do so, Dumbledore stopped them. Out of professional habit, Tonks stopped to listen to the conversation. Covered by the noise of the wizards dissaparating, she didn't get to hear whatever Dumbledore said.

No noise could have covered her boss – "There is something called individual initiative Albus! Make a spell to pull a third arm out of you and buy Ollivander another wand if you're looking for a house elf's obedience." – She shouted, before dissaparating. Clearly, a leadership issue loomed over the Order of the Phoenix. In any way, Tonks thought she understood Karen: the witch had fought in the war when she was barely starting her training but she was now the highest ranking auror besides Scrimgeour. She got used to command. And nobody replaced Mad-Eye Moody without merits. But, then again, Dumbledore was Dumbledore.


	4. 3 - Soft

Plenty of stuff wasn't made for half past six in the morning. Waking up was definitely one of them. Remembering the silencing charm wasn't taught until fifth year was another. Vanessa McLaggen snoring like a hippogriff was certainly a third. Fabian tried to sleep through it, tried move her around and tried sleeping by covering his head with the pillow. It had no effect. Grisha was waking up as well. – "turn her volume down" - said the sleepy Russian, also struggling to go back to sleep.

After turning around in his mattress for the thousand time, a resigned Fabian walked into the showers and went upstairs for breakfast, as everything which had – and had not – transpired last night slowly going back into his mind. At the Great Hall some seven year Slytherins were already having breakfast but most people was barely starting to walk in, if they were awake already, that is. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables were still empty. Ravenclaw's table had a bunch of people already and, sitting alone as usual, he saw Luna Lovegood. '_I could distract a bit with the Rowtang Conspiracy, Snorlacks and whatever'_ – thought Fabian '_and I get to keep her a bit of company'_. He got his breakfast and turned to Ravenclaw's table, asking the blonde her thoughts about the events of the labyrinth as soon as he sat in front of her.

"Isn't it obvious?" – answered Luna

"The Rowlang Conspiracy?"

Luna raised her head from her butterbeer corks necklace and looked at him as he had just said something incredibly stupid. Which was rather uncomfortable, coming from a person with a butterbeer corks necklace. "No" – she finally told him – "First of all, it's the _Roftang_, not the Rowlang Conspiracy. And they don't act that way. Cedric's gums weren't filled with ulcers"

"Ok, no. He had no injuries. But then?"

"It's obvious, Fabian! It was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He hid in the laberynth, murdered Cedric but he couldn't get Harry Potter because he's protected by his parents."

"But Luna" – said Fabian interrupting himself to lower his voice – "Dead people can't protect us"

"Of course they can" – serenely answered Luna. Too serenely. As far as Fabian knew, the girl didn't even need to mask her emotions in order to tell him that. He took his cup and pretended to drink the remaining coffee while he was actually trying to relax a little. Reminding himself he was talking with a girl who believed in the Roftang Conspiracy, he also remembered dead parents were a very sensitive subject for her. Luna's hypothesis was, of course, ridiculous. But, then again, the 'basilik's theory' was as ridiculous as well and, come to think of it, so were most of the rumors and 'theories' going around. He checked on Luna as he lowered his cup. The blonde had her gaze lost somewhere in the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling and seemed to be singing to herself, only that no sound came out of her lips. Luna had barely shown any emotion since her mother's death and he didn't remember seeing her angry, ever, since then. Fabian knew he shouldn't have told her what he did about the dead, no matter how wrong Luna was. A more mature and sensitive person would have known what to tell her, maybe even held her and, just maybe, that person could penetrate the armor keeping her feelings and pain from the rest of the world. Fabian was nothing of the sort, so he just told her the 'basilisk hypotheses'. Luna laughed loudly, saying – "And people actually say it's The Quibbler what writes anything!" Fabian managed to laugh as well, until he was cut by the shadow of a huge sixth year student.

"Oh, oh" said Fabian, staring at Vanessa McLaggen's older brother

"You do realize Krum didn't win the tournament, right?" asked the giant

"Err… yes"

"So, why are you using Slytherin's uniform?"

"It's not the best time to say it, but Cedric didn't win either" answered Fabian, staring straight at Cormac McLaggen

"So… we both lost" – happily answered Cormac, erasing his jokingly menacing look and smiling for a moment, before quickly erasing the smile from his face – "It's not funny, though. Yep, we both lost. Quidditch morning?"

"Well, there is a hedge labyrinth at the pitch" answered Fabian, but Cormac shook his head

"They've already removed it. It seems the ministry can actually do stuff quickly if they want to" – told him Cormac. Fabian looked at Luna, waiting for some comment about that (even a confirmation about the Roftan, or whatever, Conspiracy) but, for once, Luna was clueless. – "I'll let the usual gang know" – told Fabian to Cormac, as the Gryffindor was still next to him – "And we'll begin to honor the bet at the pitch" – Hearing that, McLaggen nodded and went back to Gryffindor's table.

Luna was quietly spreading butter on her toast – "Are you still betting with McLaggen?" – she reproached.

"Of course, it's fun. Wanna come see the match?"

"No, I think I'll try to rest near the…" – Luna interrupted herself, as the whole Hall did. The entire Hufflepuff House was coming down for breakfast at once. Fabian saw his older brother giving everyone pieces of used parchments as they walked downstairs. As they looked each other, Alex Grau simply winked at him.

"What are they up to?" asked Fabian to none in particular and, by the looks of the rest of the school, everyone was wandering the same, teachers included. As they sat – all at once – Dumbledore raised to give a speech. Yet, he couldn't distract the remaining three houses from looking at the Hufflepuffs.

"I regret to interrupt your breakfast. Nonetheless, I do need to speak about the events transpired today" – with that, he got everyone's attention at once – "Cedric Diggory was killed by a killing curse, after being taken away from Hogwarts by means of a portkey. Harry Potter witnessed his death and it's now resting at the Hospital Wing. I must ask you to refrain from asking him about last night events. Harry had been through a lot in these last few hours."

The Hall exploded in whispers and chatting, plenty of them outraged. Except for Hufflepuff's table, which remained quiet. Fabian noticed the older Hufflepuffs were wearing dress robes. Whispers ended, however, as they saw Dumbledore walking towards Hufflepuff's table and, addressing Alex asked – "speaking of portkeys, what's the meaning of this mister Grau?"

"We are, of course, going to Cedric's funeral. Which is due to start in ten minutes." – simply answered Fabian's brother, while still giving out the last few parchments.

"Yet you can't leave the school without proper authorization. It is dangerous." – said Professor Dumbledore. The whole school was now watching the exchange.

"Sure we can. We walk out of the Hall, go across the grounds, open the gate and I activate the portkeys." – answered Alex unabashed. Every single Hufflepuff had their gaze fixed in Dumbledore. Clearly, none of them planned to remain at Hogwarts for more than nine minutes.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff" – said Dumbledore. Professor Sprout was next to him and seemed like she couldn't decide whether to support or to punish her students. Getting close to Alex, Dumbledore continued – "It's just not safe out there mister Grau"

Claire Puffet, one of Hufflepuff's prefects looked at the rest of the table. At once, the entire table left their breakfast and stood up. – "We are about to be late, sir" – said the girl – "So we're now leaving."

That seemed to decide Professor Sprout – "Miss Puffet!" – she shouted – "You're a prefect. You are supposed to keep your House in order"- The girl, however, simply shrugged. The entire table grabbed their parchments, charmed as portkeys, and head out of the hall. A sixth year girl gave one of them to Cho Chang, who looked like she had been crying all night and, accompanied by a friend Fabian hadn't met, joined the Hufflepuffs. Professor Dumbledore's expression was changing from astonishment to fear and from fear to disbelief. Fabian would have bet his Firebolt to anyone that Dumbledore had never been challenged like this in his entire career.

Calmly trying to keep the students inside the school, professor Dumbledore quietly said – "Twenty points from every Hufflepuff leaving school without permission. Hufflepuff will end without a single point for the first time ever."

A little first year student stopped while the rest kept walking. The entire Hall seemed to be holding their breaths. And then, the ickle firstie spoke – "That's a great way to honor a friend. Thank you sir" – and left to join his remaining classmates. All students gathered at the Great Hall's gate to watch the Hufflepuffs. As soon as they walked outside the grounds, the portkeys activated and Hufflepuff students dissaparated.

"And people think they're soft" – said Luna.


End file.
